


Run Along (Anthology)

by Mango_Dolphin



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Sept for Disaster
Genre: Characters are listed in order of appearance, Don't worry he gets better, Fire, Gen, I don't know how to tag this correctly, I'M SO SORRY FOR MENTIONING THIS., I'M SORRY IS IMPLIED MPREG A TAG ?????? WHAT THE FUCK ???, Implied/Referenced Character Death, One Shot, WHY IS IMPLIED MPREG A TAG, also w/the implied/referenced character death, but we're our own fandom so no one probably even knows what's happening rn, d&d? crunshy, it just kind of how it be sometimes, this is kind of an "explain what happened to this bitch" fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 11:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_Dolphin/pseuds/Mango_Dolphin
Summary: Simple one-shots taking place in an ongoing campaign. Each chapter is a different story related to the events of the campaign, or just goofs. I don't know what I'm going to write, since this is a warm-up. I love you Robin. I'd live for you.Watch as a novice writer stumbles around word words and screams into a chamber hoping that their writey stuff comes out all Nice and Peachy.





	Run Along (Anthology)

**Author's Note:**

> Lines said by the PCs were taken directly from the campaign, and only edited slightly in punctuation.
> 
> Since my tags are a mess, a trigger warning for implied death, fire, and collapsing buildings. Claustrophobia? I'd like to apologize for these poor warnings, I'm not sure what to tag for—please let me know if I need to tag for anything else in the comments!

        When you run, you can't pave a straight path.

        How long's it been since you've heard that phrase? Fifty years? A hundred? You've been a Magpie so long, memories of your past life have faded into vague obscurity. No one can blame you, considering your lifespan, but Ashera—your dumbass human sister—has always found a way to mock you for it. About four or five days ago, she walked up to you holding a thick stack of papers that reached her chin, lips held taut, eyes locked onto yours. Her voice was grave and uncharacteristically monotone.

        "Elaruil." She plopped the blank papers on the metal table in front of you. You _do_ remember when you bought that table: Ashera had reasoned that, even if your apartment was completely decimated for one reason or another, a metal table (or the scraps of it) would still remain. Because coffee tables exist to be extremely inconvenient at the worst times. "When was the last time you've touched a fire?"

        "Let's see," you said. You placed the book you were reading on your lap and mimed counting on your hands. After an appropriate time of waiting, you stood up and shouted, "Why the _fuck_ would you ask me that?"

        Ashera pulled out a matchbox from her back pocket. "Because I need someone to validate my impulsivity."

        Before you could have stopped her from lighting a match, she lit the stack of papers on fire. You fell back into your chair, pressed your eyes tight, and sighed. "Please don't tell me you're going to do that."

        "I won't if you will."

        You nodded. Genuinely considered taking up her offer, for a second. A thin curtain of smoke rose from your coffee table and began to dance on the ceiling, and through that veil was the face of your dumbass human sister.

        You left the room.

        Amidst her protests, the fire alarm began to blare. You could see water begin to pool at the bottom gap of the door.

 

* * *

 

 

        The church may be burning to the ground, but this guy's son is so incompetent, it's almost depressing.

        Maybe it was the smoke that was getting to Earendil's brain, but at the moment, you're not really thrilled about potentially dying because of a botched mugging attempt. When the first plank fell to the ground in smoulders, it took him a solid 5 minutes to realize that he could simply cast a cantrip. You sigh internally. All you were tasked to do was gather information, but instead you're trapped in a burning church with a bunch of complete strangers.

        Ashera would've found this hilarious, if not ironic.

        "Hey, new arrivals," one of the thieves, a young tiefling woman, calls out. Beyond the smoke, you can see the said tiefling and three other figures enter the church. Great. "Welcome in my hot, hot new club: the Burning Church."

        You can hear a dwarven woman shout, "Oh son of a fuckin' bitch, this is worse than I thought!"

        Fingers twitching, you resist the urge to pull out your hair or jump out of the fucking church windows. The church is on fire! No one's _doing_ anything! And all you could do was wait painfully, or else you'd lose your involuntary 'informant'. At this point, however, you doubt Earendil could tell you anything worthwhile.

        All of a sudden, you hear him exclaim, "I have looked death in the eyes, and he looked back at me."

        The tiefling. Right. Good god.

        "Shut up you high elf bastard, this is still a robbery, burning church or not."

        Good _god_.

        "This is a 'shut th' fuck up 'cause we're savin' your dumb asses' thingy!" the dwarven woman says. Her care and how her accomplices react to the situation would've comforted you greatly, if Earendil hadn't had to ignore them completely.

        "One of the many comforts brought upon me by life is that I will demand your shattered skull presented to me on a golden platter once I get out."

        Surrounded by roaring flames and panicking bandits, Earendil, the tiefling, and the three newcomers began to bicker.

        You're going to die here.

        Immediately tuning out their conversation, you turn your attention to the other two bandits. Unlike the person you were guarding and the tiefling, they were actively attempting to survive, a cause you supported greatly no matter their earlier intentions.

        Well, _her_ intentions. The other bandit had escaped not too long ago, you realize, leaving the drow woman. The woman in question is shaking violently, staring wide-eyed at the flames surrounding her. Debris and ash rain down in scattered showers, but who knew when everything would come crashing down.

        "Hold on, miss!" You carefully pick your way through the flames and charred logs, blinking back welling tears. The drow woman's ears prick up, and she cowers, stumbling backward.

        "Please!" You can see her wince as her arm brushes a flame. She looks close to tears. "Don't hurt me!"

        "I'm pretty sure neither of us really want to bother with fighting right now!"

        "I—I don't want to—!"

        Loud popping and crackles overhead send shivers down your spine, despite the heat. Wooden beams crash down in front of you, creating a physical wall between you and the drow. The flames around you both roar louder, reaching a tremendous height. While you're screaming on the inside, the drow's scream reaches over the already deafening sounds of the collapsing church. This might as well have happened, right?

        You glance around the scene for a moment, looking for an opening. But the drow woman was surrounded on all sides—the walls, melting windows, the flame, and the beams. The only thing you'd be able to influence is the beams. So with a great heave, you reach down and attempt to push the wall up.

        "Come on, I've got it miss!" You reposition the logs so that you can lift it over your head. Sweat drips down your face, and the worsening smog threatens to swell your eyes shut. "Climb under!"

        She freezes, and from what you can see, she's staring right into your eyes. You're suddenly aware of how heavily you're trembling. Even then, it's your whimpering voice that makes her flinch. "Please, it'll be okay..."

        The drow woman's gaze flickers back and forth, from past you to the melting window behind herself.

        She chooses the window.

        Watching her crawl out of the window and seeing the glass drip down her leg and burn her makes you wince, but otherwise doesn't phase you. It's something you didn't want her to go through, but at this point, it might as well have happened. Earendil's a dipshit and this woman is scared out of her right mind. And you? Would drop these planks onto your head if you didn't have someone to live for.

        However, the woman doesn't jump. You can barely make out the voice outside, but you recognize it as a different woman. Something about jumping down? You don't know why you're still holding onto the planks, besides the fact that it'd be hard to move out of the way, maybe. You cough hoarsely as the woman denies the outside help.

        "Hey, you gonna stand there or...?" You speak through clenched teeth. It's getting harder to distinguish the drow's form, now. You bend down, sinking to your knees. You can't make details anymore—it's either the actual haze or the asphyxiation getting to you that's making her form blurry—but you can tell that she's looking back and forth again.

        Another game, with a face behind a smoky curtain. Her mind's running a mile a minute, most definitely. You wish you could say the same.

        You narrow your eyes, attempting to discern if she had said anything. But instead, you close them.

        You let go.

 

* * *

 

 

        A light.

        You shoot up, looking around frantically. Men. Two beds. Windows and door.

        You feel a dull, stinging pain... well, everywhere. You're lying in bed, covered in heavy, white blankets. Besides that, you're wrapped in dozens of bandages. Tentatively, you reach for the one on your left collarbone.

        Needless to say, your mission failed terribly. The moment you're able to get back to base, you're going to have a lot of explaining to do... hopefully you didn't sustain any scars.

        "Yo, are ya okay there?"

        The voice of an unfamiliar human man causes you to jump out of the bed.

        You stutter. "Wh—who, who the—?" Your mind is racing, trying desperately to catch up. What happened? How did you get here? Your knee falters, and you brace yourself against the wall.

        The human man puts his hands up, stepping back. "WHOA, hey buddy, I'm not gonna hurt ya. Just calm down, you don't wanna exert yourself too much, ya look hella tired. Breathe, relax."

        Good advice, definitely something you should take.

        But then you see Earendil.

        " **Elaruil**."

        He slowly makes his way to your bedside, each step an eternity. It's then you make a decision on how to tackle your situation.

        "Who?"

**Author's Note:**

> That last part was edited to be more dramatic, lmao. The build-up of the revelation was MUCH longer and also cooler, but I needed to leave in a few minutes so this is all you're going to get. >:3c


End file.
